


Spoil

by Paia_Loves_Pie



Series: Soft Smut Sunday [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Homecoming, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/pseuds/Paia_Loves_Pie
Summary: Mycroft comes home with a surprise for Greg
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Soft Smut Sunday [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672735
Comments: 18
Kudos: 182
Collections: Soft Smut Sunday





	Spoil

**Author's Note:**

> This has been lingering in my drafts for quite a while, and though it's not at all what I intended to be working on, given how many other projects are in flight, it is what felt possible today. 
> 
> Thank you to meansgirl for her insightful comments as always. Truly you are a conductor of light. 
> 
> This is part of the Soft Smut Sunday collection for the prompt "Spoil".

The mattress dipped beside him and a warm hand slid up his thigh, tempting him awake. Greg smiled and stretched into the caress, parting his thighs in a silent request for more, but he didn’t open his eyes. _Not yet._ It might just be a pleasant dream. He’d gone to bed alone, after all, just like every other night for the past three weeks. Slowly, the hand passed up over his navel, unhurried and indulgent, working its way up to his chest. A light tug slid the sheet away from his shoulders, leaving bare, cooling skin behind. 

“Mmmhhh.” Words were reluctant to form in the fog of his brain, but his cock was thickening under the attention. He felt _fantastic._ A quiet sigh left him as a hand tucked gently against his face, sweeping around the back of his neck. He could feel the mattress shifting as warm skin settled next to his, Mycroft’s bare hip nestling into the cradle of his body. The heat of his skin sent his heart thumping as Mycroft hovered over his body, lifting his chin up for a sleepy kiss.

At the first touch of bristles, Greg’s eyes flew wide open. He flung out a hand and clicked on the side lamp. Mycroft grinned at him, handsome and self-satisfied as Greg adjusted to the sight of him. What an absolute vision. Greg’s mouth dropped open with unspoken questions as he reached a hand up to touch Mycroft’s face, touch the new beard that had grown in his absence. Greg bit his lip at the way it prickled softly against his palm.

If there was one thing Greg knew about Mycroft, it was that he was as fastidious as a cat about his grooming. He had never grown a beard before - always been absolutely fussy about shaving, sometimes clearing his face twice in a day if he had meetings in the evening. Greg went a bit rough from time to time, after back-to-back days on a case or over a long weekend, and sometimes growing one for charity with the other lads in his department for No-Shave-November. But not Mycroft. 

He petted at Mycroft’s face, noting that it had grown in decidedly gingery in a way that made Greg’s stomach squirm. He was more hirsute than Greg would have guessed, being generally clear of hair elsewhere, except for a lovely little patch on his chest that Greg adamantly insisted Mycroft should keep. In true Mycroft fashion, the beard was tightly trimmed, tidy and neat and soft.  Mycroft’s eyes sparkled at his appreciation, and he pressed a kiss to Greg’s fingers where they trailed over his mouth.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Greg muttered, drawing him down into a kiss as he lay back into the pillows, attempting to collect his lover into his lap on the way. Mycroft smoothed a hand down his side, slowly sliding the sheet down to his thighs, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of Greg’s body. This was the longest they’d been separated since they’d started seeing one another. Greg had kept a stiff upper lip the first week, missed him dreadfully by the second,but had become utterly weak by the third, sniffing Mycroft’s cologne and poking through his cufflinks and morosely folding his socks as Greg tried desperately not to call him at all hours of the day and night. 

Greg scratched his fingers through the new growth again as their lips parted. The soft bristle against his chin was a treat. 

“Do you like it?”  Mycroft’s face indicated he knew good and well that Greg was in favor - he just wanted to make Greg say it out loud.

“Ohhh, pet. I love it,” Greg rumbled, voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled Mycroft’s face. “Very handsome.” They traded a few more kisses and Greg couldn’t help himself. He lazily gathered his cock in his hand, sighing into Mycroft’s mouth, just enjoying the feel of it. He was always horny in the mornings, and being woken up in the middle of the night like this was only quickening his arousal. His lips grew sensitive with the extra friction. Kissing like this was his preferred way to come, with his lips pressed against Mycroft’s as they panted together, helping each other feel good, loving each other face to face. 

“Sweetheart, c’mere.”

“I am here, Greg. What do you need?” 

“Come _more_ here.” Greg tugged, trying to get Mycroft to straddle him, naked and warm and delicious, so they could put their cocks together and rub against one another, but Mycroft resisted the pull. Instead, he placed a firm kiss on Greg’s mouth before drawing away. 

Greg made an embarrassing whine of protest as Mycroft tossed the sheet off Greg’s legs and shoved it aside, climbing all the way onto the bed to settle his face between Greg’s thighs. Mycroft smoothed his fingertips up and down Greg’s hips, seducing his skin as his shoulders wedged Greg’s knees apart. Greg’s heart leapt and he squirmed, understanding now what Mycroft had planned. _Oh god._ His cock filled heavy in his grip as Mycroft lowered his face and brushed his beard lightly on the underside of his leg. Greg made an undignified noise as Mycroft nuzzled his way from his knee to the crease of his thigh. It tickled a little, but the tiny soft rasps sent his skin into shuddery goosebumps, hypersensitive. 

He had to touch. He threaded his hands through Mycroft’s hair and scratched lightly at his scalp. Mycroft tucked his head under as he lipped his way to Greg’s cock, sliding prickles over his balls in a way that made Greg gasp for air. _Christ._ Mycroft hummed against him, a pleased little noise that Greg couldn’t help but smile at. Mycroft always did like causing a reaction. And Greg was more than happy to provide, little soft noises emerging from the back of his throat as that tongue trailed hot and heavy over him. 

As Mycroft closed his mouth around him, Greg shifted a hand from his head to his jaw, feeling the stretch of him, trailing a finger over Mycroft’s lips where they were pulled wide and wet around him. He rubbed smooth fingertips through the thick prickle on his cheek, cupping his mouth reverently as Mycroft took him deeper. He arched into the touch, winding his legs around Mycroft’s torso, trying to gather him closer, feel all of him at once.

His voice broke and his hips hitched restlessly and his hands scrabbled at Mycroft’s shoulders until the pleasure waved through him like a rising flood, warm and swirling and rushing in his ears, rising higher and higher until he was swept away in a crescendo. Mycroft’s hands soothed the outside of his thighs as Greg panted, while he ran his face gently up and down the soft skin of his leg, pressing small bristly kisses and breathing into the crook of his knee. 

“Promise me you’ll keep it, darling. It suits you wonderfully,” Greg gasped out, stretching luxuriously as he indulged in his afterglow.

“It does add a certain something to the profile, doesn’t it?” Mycroft craned his neck from side to side, as if preening in a mirror, making sure Greg could see him from all angles. Then he crawled up his body, crowding him underneath for a kiss, gentle and soft. His hair was a scrumpled mess where Greg’s fingers had trawled through it. He had no business looking so smug.

Greg nibbled the newly-stubbled chin thoughtfully, palming his backside until Mycroft was coaxed properly into his lap. “Mmm there you are.” He patted Mycroft’s thigh. “I think it gentles you, the beard. Not so severe.” 

“Surely my reputation would be in tatters by the end of the week if I kept it. However shall I intimidate people into doing what I want?” 

“‘Dunno, but it’s working pretty well on me.” Greg said with a cheeky smile, sliding his hand to Mycroft’s cock. “Why don’t we practice?” 


End file.
